Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ raison d'etre ❯ raison d'etre ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: kage-kun 
We've all read fics about how Mokuba feels about Seto Kaiba, but how does Seto view his little bro?
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 09.02.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 691 | Visits: 849 | Status: Completed
We've all read fics about how Mokuba feels about Seto Kaiba, but how does Seto view his little bro?
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 09.02.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 691 | Visits: 849 | Status: Completed
- Yu-Gi-Oh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi and associates. This fanfic merely uses it’s characters, I lay no claim to the characters, game, setting or anything else, nor am I profiting from this story.
Author’s note: I actually saw the tv series when it was first aired on terrestrial television in the UK several years ago. I’ve not read the manga yet and I came back to Yu-Gi-Oh having watched the abridged version and read several fansites. The characterisation etcetera in this story should be fairly in-character, but having not enjoyed the full Yu-Gi-Oh series in some years there may be some inaccuracies.
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Seto Kaiba regained consciousness with a sense of grim mundanity. Recently it seemed that the only times he got any sort of rest was when he was knocked unconscious for the purpose of abduction by one enemy or another. It was starting to get pretty old, but at least this lot had chosen to use anaesthetic to knock him out instead of concussing him, the genius valued his brain cells after all. As he shook off the worst of the grogginess his natural hauteur came back in full force. He sneered as the handcuffs dropped from his wrists with little effort.
He escaped his cell with similar ease, subduing the pair of elderly, unfit guards and locking them safely in his vacant cell. He gathered that whatever party had tried to capture him this time assumed him to be some spoiled rich kid without an ounce of intelligence. It was somewhat insulting, but as he checked around Seto realised that Mokuba had not been targeted this time. He felt relief wash over him as he realised his little brother was safe.
Arriving at the computer control room Seto’s self-assured arrogance crystallised. The room was abandoned and it was the work of a minute to lock the access points and get into one of the machines, it’s protection programmes were facile and outdated compared to those he practiced on. Since it took so little mental effort to deal with Seto allowed his thoughts to wander back to his little brother.
Mokie was the reason he got up of a morning, the reason he’d willing sacrificed so much and also the reason he as still alive to see those sacrifices bearing fruit. Seto owed Mokuba his life and what glimmers of happiness he was capable of feeling, all Mokuba owed him was a house and a few irrelevant trappings of wealth. To be honest Seto did not think he was doing a very good job of looking after Mokuba - his own trials had stunted him emotionally making him a terrible father-figure and his high profile meant that Mokuba was a target for any power-hungry, greedy or disgruntled person in Japan.
The helicopter was unattended and shockingly easy to hijack. Seto took the pilot’s position and took off, unable to shake his melancholy as easily as he had his captors. Mokuba was such a generous, kind youth, he deserved better than Seto’s cool, workaholic self as a family. What was worse Seto couldn’t even protect Mokuba from abduction by evil mastermind megalomaniacs! He was no guardian at all.
‘Nii-san!’ Mokuba’s shrill voice penetrated even the sound of the helicopter engine as he set it down on the mansion roof and as soon as it was safe the boy ran up close and threw himself at his brother, strong little arms wrapping around the taller boy’s slender waist. The black-haired boy looked up at his brother, beaming as if he were the sun itself.
Seto’s expression softened into a tiny smile at that and he rested his hands on Mokuba’s back, returning the embrace. And this was why he never did take his life, no matter how big a failure he felt himself to be. If simply living for Mokuba made the boy this happy then Seto would strive with every fibre of his being to hold onto life every day Mokuba did.
Author’s note: I actually saw the tv series when it was first aired on terrestrial television in the UK several years ago. I’ve not read the manga yet and I came back to Yu-Gi-Oh having watched the abridged version and read several fansites. The characterisation etcetera in this story should be fairly in-character, but having not enjoyed the full Yu-Gi-Oh series in some years there may be some inaccuracies.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++
Seto Kaiba regained consciousness with a sense of grim mundanity. Recently it seemed that the only times he got any sort of rest was when he was knocked unconscious for the purpose of abduction by one enemy or another. It was starting to get pretty old, but at least this lot had chosen to use anaesthetic to knock him out instead of concussing him, the genius valued his brain cells after all. As he shook off the worst of the grogginess his natural hauteur came back in full force. He sneered as the handcuffs dropped from his wrists with little effort.
He escaped his cell with similar ease, subduing the pair of elderly, unfit guards and locking them safely in his vacant cell. He gathered that whatever party had tried to capture him this time assumed him to be some spoiled rich kid without an ounce of intelligence. It was somewhat insulting, but as he checked around Seto realised that Mokuba had not been targeted this time. He felt relief wash over him as he realised his little brother was safe.
Arriving at the computer control room Seto’s self-assured arrogance crystallised. The room was abandoned and it was the work of a minute to lock the access points and get into one of the machines, it’s protection programmes were facile and outdated compared to those he practiced on. Since it took so little mental effort to deal with Seto allowed his thoughts to wander back to his little brother.
Mokie was the reason he got up of a morning, the reason he’d willing sacrificed so much and also the reason he as still alive to see those sacrifices bearing fruit. Seto owed Mokuba his life and what glimmers of happiness he was capable of feeling, all Mokuba owed him was a house and a few irrelevant trappings of wealth. To be honest Seto did not think he was doing a very good job of looking after Mokuba - his own trials had stunted him emotionally making him a terrible father-figure and his high profile meant that Mokuba was a target for any power-hungry, greedy or disgruntled person in Japan.
The helicopter was unattended and shockingly easy to hijack. Seto took the pilot’s position and took off, unable to shake his melancholy as easily as he had his captors. Mokuba was such a generous, kind youth, he deserved better than Seto’s cool, workaholic self as a family. What was worse Seto couldn’t even protect Mokuba from abduction by evil mastermind megalomaniacs! He was no guardian at all.
‘Nii-san!’ Mokuba’s shrill voice penetrated even the sound of the helicopter engine as he set it down on the mansion roof and as soon as it was safe the boy ran up close and threw himself at his brother, strong little arms wrapping around the taller boy’s slender waist. The black-haired boy looked up at his brother, beaming as if he were the sun itself.
Seto’s expression softened into a tiny smile at that and he rested his hands on Mokuba’s back, returning the embrace. And this was why he never did take his life, no matter how big a failure he felt himself to be. If simply living for Mokuba made the boy this happy then Seto would strive with every fibre of his being to hold onto life every day Mokuba did.